


Stage Left

by ImaniJoain



Series: Unlikely Singularities [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-14 04:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11775690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaniJoain/pseuds/ImaniJoain
Summary: Rome wasn't built in a day and the Sokovia Accords won't be torn down in one either. Tony Stark knows this. But  he has a plan. A rough plan. More of an outline. Or really detailed bullet points. Regardless, he will fix this mistake, but until he can get all of the pieces in place everyone else has to continue living their lives as if nothing has changed. But it will. *Takes place 10/16/16-10/18/16





	1. Running Through the Forest

_**October 16, 2016** _

 

 

Laura Barton had never considered herself moody. She was a planner. An organizer. A woman who collected data, assessed a situation, made a decision and never lost her temper. She couldn’t, not and stay married to a spy who risked his life and could never tell her about it. Her husband had missed six of the thirteen Thanksgivings since they had been married. Two of three births. One funeral. Five Christmases. Eleven anniversaries. She had breezed through all of that with a calm attitude and the philosophy that what happened would happen, and if she and Clint were anything good for each other or their children it was because they were true to themselves. For Clint, that meant saving the world. It was the same for her, in a different way. She could do what she needed to do in rural obscurity, and it made Clint’s job possible, so she had no issues with it. She liked raising her children, might have home schooled them even under different circumstance, so that was an easy decision. When Clint was home, he was one hundred percent present. He was a good father, a decent farm hand, and an attentive husband. He was her best friend. Her marriage, although unconventional, was a natural setting for her undemanding nature.

The Tower was not.

Laura tapped her foot as she waited for the elevator to rise. Going to New York after the disaster with the Accords and Clint’s incarceration had been an easy decision. Having Clint’s real name blasted all over the news by that idiot, Ross, meant it was only a matter of time before someone looked into _that nice Laura Barton on the farm west of town_ and wondered about her husband who was _so athletic for a salesman_ and always seemed to be missing when big world events were happening. It was Plan H, after all. Plans C through E involved Phil Coulson, whom she had reached out to but was unavoidably preoccupied. Plan F only came into play if there was a nuclear attack, and plan G wasn’t an option since baby Nathaniel wasn’t old enough for a smallpox vaccination. So, Plan H boiled down to seeking out Natasha’s last known safe base and camping out until Nat or Clint came for her or another plan was enacted.

Natasha’s last safe base was Avengers Tower. Home of Tony Stark. The idiot who had faced off against her husband. Her husband who had been thrown in a military prison and was currently in hiding. Clint had missed Nathaniel’s first birthday. He hadn’t even video chatted. He always called on birthdays.

Laura tried to remind herself of all the reasons she shouldn’t rip off the ear of a billionaire super hero and slap him with it. He had given her and her children safe refuge when they arrived in New York – before Natasha had come back. He provided her lab space for horticultural experiments. He paid for a gymnastics instructor for the kids, and allowed them access to the Avengers gym so they could burn off energy since it wasn’t a smart idea to go outside. He looked the other way when Natasha set up an encrypted line so Clint could call his family. He was financing the rebuilding of huge areas of New York – although she was certain there would be some profit from that in some way. He designed leg braces for Colonel Rhodes. Pepper Potts seemed to like him. For some reason. He saved people and killed terrorists.

_Nope. Still a jackass._

She had held her tongue when he had taken it upon himself, unasked, to improve the television in her bedroom so that she could have ‘intimate’ video chats with Clint. Every time she turned the damn thing on the lights dimmed and the soundtrack to a seventies porn started playing. She hadn’t said anything when t-shirts for each of her kids had been delivered to the apartment, all emblazoned with “Team Iron Man”. The door to her office still had, in parentheses below her name and title, “Questionable Taste”. The upgrades to her lab equipment and software that came without instructions, the replacement of most of her wardrobe with designer clothes – only in shades of black and purple, the annoying banjo music that played in the elevator whenever she stepped on, the circus posters that kept appearing on the apartment door. All of that she had taken a deep breath and let slide as the childish outbursts of an emotionally stunted and hurting man.

_No more._

Friday’s voice came over the hidden speakers as the elevator slowed. “Mrs. Barton,” the Irish voice began softly, “you appear to be somewhat distressed. Perhaps if you provided me with more information I could assist you without-”

"Distress?” Laura bared her teeth at the ceiling. “You haven’t yet seen distressed.” The doors slid open silently and Laura had the thought, deeply buried in the back of her brain, that Tony Stark should never have allowed her access to the upper floors of the Tower. Genius he might be, but he was still an idiot. And a jackass.

“Stark,” she barked out. She knew he was in the penthouse, she had double-checked his location with Friday before she used the private elevator. He could have taken the stairs or used his suit, but she doubted he feared her that much. _His mistake._

“You bellowed?” A hand waved from the depths of a white leather couch. Laura pulled back her arm and chucked an Iron Man repulsor over the back of the sofa. She had played Division I softball in college. On a full scholarship. The resulting sound of shocked pain was satisfying. “What the hell, Barton?”

“Really?” She crossed her arms and watched Tony roll off the sofa and onto the floor, holding a sheaf of papers in one hand and gripping the repulsor with the other. She breathed through her nose to try and reign back her fury. “That is what you’re going with? Sure you don’t want to rethink this?”

“No.” He smiled, but it was the fake, toothy smile he used on tv whenever reporters asked him to comment on the status of Captain America. “Do _you_ want to rethink pegging your extremely generous landlord and boss with his own equipment?”

“I’m a consultant, not your employee,” she responded automatically to an old argument, then paused. “Pegging?” She raised an eyebrow.

He winced. “Yeah, I could have workshopped that a bit more. So,” he limped out of the seating area and into the kitchen, “what’s got you all pissy? The other scientists stealing all the good germination fertilizers? Your apartment have a leaky faucet? Hormones?” He hesitated in the act of pulling a smoothie from the refrigerator and leaned out around the door. His face could only be described as horrified. “You aren’t spawning again, are you?”

“No, Stark. Setting aside how sexist that is, I couldn’t possibly be ‘spawning’,” her mouth soured around the word. “Difficult, since I haven’t seen my husband in the flesh in almost eight months. Wonder whose fault that is? Aside from immaculate conception, it’s not really a possibility. So unless you’ve had some sort of late religious epiphany, maybe you should think a little harder on why I might be _pissy_.”

For all his genius, Tony actually looked puzzled for a full minute. “It’s...the repulsor? You’re mad about that?”

“Yes, Stark. I am mad about that. I am furious that you would give an unsupervised ten year old highly dangerous equipment! What the hell were you thinking?”

“Uh, I was thinking that he is going to have the coolest science project ever, obviously. All the other kids will be smoked out of the competition when they see his presentation on thermodynamics. Yes, Barton, I know.” he nodded regally. “You’re welcome.”

“He is home schooled, Stark. His only competition is his sister.”

"She’s two grades up, he needs the edge.”

“He could have killed himself.”

“Highly unlikely. Third degree burns, at most. “

Laura screamed.

It was that or launch herself at Tony Stark and literally rip his ear off. Or maybe some other part of his body. Something he actually used that he might miss. She cursed. Loudly. Fluently. Inventively. She cursed his manhood and his parentage. She went on at length in extremely unflattering terms about his size in general and in specific. She questioned his brilliance, his common sense, and his ability to manage basic, involuntary functions. At a certain point she might have started speaking in tongues. She wasn’t entirely sure what she said, but when she finally wound down, her throat was raw, her face hot, and Tony was standing in a puddle of green smoothie, his face gray.

“You think I’d be a bad parent?”

“What?” Laura was stopped cold with confusion, trying to replay her words. Had she said that? Maybe, but what did it matter? Tony didn’t have kids, displayed an extreme aversion to being in the same room with people under legal drinking age, and had more daddy issues than the Playboy Mansion.

“You’re a great mom. Your kids have the worst possibilities before them, but they are smart – not geniuses, obviously – but well-adjusted. They’re...they’re nice, for kids. The girl chats with all the security guards. They love her. Boy Barton helped an old guy who dropped his briefcase in the lobby last week. They call me sir or Mr. Stark. Their dad is a wanted criminal because I – I – and if you can keep two human beings from growing up to be insane narcissistic whiners through all of that, then you’d know, right? And the baby is – well he drools a lot.” Tony’s words were speeding up, the color draining even further from his face. He squashed his hand full of papers against the counter and with the other rubbed at his chest. “You’d know,” he repeated, letting out a laugh. Laura thought he might have been trying to play it off as a joke, but he sounded awful. “You can tell those things, you can see, just by looking, can’t you? You look at me and you can see all the terrible shit I would do to a kid. I’d destroy them, or worse, make them like me and why wouldn’t I? What the hell do I know? Howard-” He made a strangled sound and an abortive turn to leave. His shoes slipped in the spilled smoothie and his hip banged against the cabinets.

“Stark,” Laura began, watching him struggle for balance. His back was to her, bent slightly. She could hear him struggling to breathe. “Tony.” With quick strides she crossed the room until she was right behind him and pressed her palm against the middle of his back. He startled, but did not turn.

“Tony,” she said again, softer. She spoke carefully, trying to search out just the right words to soothe a panic attack that had been a complete surprise to her. And perhaps to him too. “I was mad. A lot of what I said isn’t true, or was an exaggeration.”

“Or anatomically impossible,” he murmured.

“Yes,” she chuckled with relief. If he could joke, he couldn’t be too bad off. She pulled her hand back, but didn’t move away. Gradually, he got his breathing under control. “Do you want to be a parent?” Laura bit her lip while she waited for an answer.

“No. Maybe. Yes. I mean, Pepper asked and I said no.” He hesitated, still not turning, “But then I thought about how she does what I want, and she wants this so badly. And I thought I could do this. If that’s what Pepper wants, I should be able to do it.” He let out a harsh laugh, “I had a great example of what not to do, I should just do the opposite of Howard and it will all be fine, right?”

Setting aside the world-altering knowledge that Tony Stark might be planning on reproducing, Laura tried to focus on the fear. She knew fear, she felt it everyday. She saw the nightmares and the guilt and the terror that gripped her husband when he came home from a mission. Clint had been worried too, before Lila was born. Life on the streets and in the circus was not standard training for fatherhood. She could imagine what Tony was going through.

“You just...you just know, Tony.” It was hard to put into words, so she leaned against the counter behind him, staring at the green ooze that was soaking into her shoes. “When I was on the way to the hospital for Lila, I freaked out. I was twenty-three, in debt up to my eyeballs, working on my Master’s and Clint was out of the country. I actually pulled my car over to the side of the road and got out to puke from nerves. I was certain, absolutely certain, that I could not do this. That I had made a terrible mistake and I didn’t know anything about how to raise another human being.” Laura got lost a little bit in the memory.

“What happened?” His soft question surprised her. Tony was not the type of person who was generally interested in the experiences of others.

“Contractions happened,” she answered with a wry smile. “That was scary enough that I got my ass back in the car and drove to the hospital. Fourteen hours later, they handed me this scrawny little red thing. And I knew. I could do this, I would do this. Because I had to. It’s amazing Tony, what you can do if the alternative is unacceptable.”

“So that was it? No more fear? You just knew?” He was scoffing, verging on angry.

“Fuck no.” Laura laughed. Her head fell back and all the tension of the day fell away for a few moments. “I feel completely useless and ninety percent unprepared at least twice a day. I’m sure at least three times a week that I am a failure as a mother and a person. But then they do something – something amazing, Tony. They build a photocell, or write a poem, or help an old man pick up the things he dropped. They smile, and then you just...you just know.”

He straightened, pulling away from her and shuffling the wrinkled papers on the counter. His breathing was even, and his quarter profile was a more normal color. Laura continued, “Is Pepper pregnant?”

“She, we, have some issues there. She wants, I want for her, I want...I’m looking for a specialist.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone perfect. The best in their field, no doubt.”

“Yeah. Yes. Yes.” He picked up his papers and threw a grin over his shoulder, back to his usual self. “I should get on that. There is a lot to sift through, I won’t let anyone more than fifteen IQ points lower than me work with Pepper. Or, God forbid, someone who went to a state school.” He gave a mock shiver and whispered, “Or Brown.”

“Okay, Stark. Sounds like you have a plan. Just, no more giving my kids stuff without asking me first.” She quickly amended to close any loopholes, “Don’t give them anything worth more than twenty dollars without asking me first.”

He waved her off and began to walk away, leaving sucking green footprints across the floor. “Yeah, whatever. Fine. You’ve got this, right? Thanks loads, Barton. Ta-ta!” He was in the elevator and the doors had closed before his meaning sunk in. Her feet squished in her soaked shoes, a puddle of warming smoothie threatening to stain the marble.

Laura Barton was not a moody person. She was not temperamental, or irritable, or prone to flying off the handle. Tony Stark made her a changed woman.

“Fucking jackass!” she screamed at the empty penthouse.

“Yes, Mrs. Barton,” Friday agreed with a put-upon sigh.


	2. Jumping Fences, Dodging Trees

_**October 17, 201** _ **6**

 

Clint shifted in his seat on an old mattress as the video call continued to ring. He was a few minutes early, but everything was quiet in the temporary base and Barnes was out checking the perimeter with Steve. He grinned at the thought. Barnes didn’t talk much, even when it was just the team, but the choppy one-liners and knowing looks had been irritating Steve in a way that Tony Stark would have marveled at. With his arm back and no more doctors or scientists poking at him, the assassin had stepped up his game, sliding through sly comments about Steve’s fashion sense, his endurance, and his way with the ladies. Steve was still riding the high of having his best friend back again, but Clint and Sam were taking bets on how much longer he would be able to grit his teeth and bite his tongue. Clint was figuring it would end in matching black eyes and a welcome respite from the eggshells around the former Winter Soldier. Sam was hoping Barnes would have a broken jaw for at least a day or two.

The ringing ended and Clint’s smile widened when he saw Lila sitting on the couch in their apartment. “Hey, jellybean, I missed you.”

“Dad! Dad! Dad, we had a science fair and you have to tell Mom to let me use one of the labs. Mr. Stark gave Coop a repulsor to help with _his_ project, and it is totally not fair that I had to use only stuff normal kids can get. You _have_ to tell her Dad.”

“Baby, you know I am not going to do that.” He should have been more stern with her, but he couldn’t help the smile that seemed to be irrevocably splitting his face. He worried sometimes, all the time, that his kids would grow up without him. And they were growing. He couldn’t ignore the bra strap peaking out of Lila’s oversized t-shirt or the acne dotting her chin. They still needed him, though. If for nothing else than to complain about each other.

“I know. But Dad, he is being such a butthole about-”

“Lila.”

“-a jerk about it,” she quickly amended. “And even if his project looked cool, mine is way more practical. So I should have won.”

“Who did win?” Clint already knew the answer, but he could see Sam in his peripheral vision, working on lunch out in the kitchen, perking up with interest over the idea of a competition.

“Nobody.” Lila sulked back into the couch cushions. The level of pout combined with pre-teen disgust was palatable even across thousands of miles. “As usual. Mom gave us both A’s for our grade levels. But we presented them in the breakroom, and the SI staff had way more questions for him. They totally liked his better.”

“Totally, huh?” Clint raised an eyebrow. Laura had sent him an email about the projects. She sent an update on the kids almost every day, even if it was just a few lines. “And you didn’t have anybody, anybody at all, take an interest in your research?”

“Just Dr. K, and he is so completely old and boring. He doesn’t even have any sweet stuff in his lab, he just works on computer models.”

“Well, you know your old man, jellybean. I don’t know much about science,” he began. Lila scoffed. “But I know that Dr. Foster used some of his research to modify her machines, so I suppose even computer models of alternative energy sources might be really helpful to a lot of people.”

“Jane Foster? Really?” Lila, as seemed to have become usual in the last year, looked like she was trying to repress her excitement with skepticism. Excitement was, apparently, not cool.

“That is Doctor Foster to you, young lady. And yes.” Lila stayed on the line for a few more minutes, primarily telling him all about the gossip of SI employees and her own burning need for new soldering equipment. Then Cooper jumped over the back of the couch, irritating his sister and launching into an impassioned description of his science project, a new gymnastics move he had been working on, and the unfairness of spelling tests.

“Coop, that is pretty awesome. How’s the burn though? It doesn’t look too bad.”

“Nah, Dr. Helen stopped by and said it wouldn’t even leave a scar.” He held up his bandaged hand. “Which totally sucks, because you always get cool scars and I really-”

“Cooper Ryan Barton,” Clint felt his whole body relax as Laura’s voice came over the call. No matter how bad things had ever gotten for him, Laura was always _home_. Just hearing her, even reprimanding one of the kids, made him wish he was there. “Injuries are not badges of honor, which I am certain your father would agree with if he was here.”

Clint couldn’t see her yet, but he had been married long enough to know the correct response, “Your mother is right. Better go get your homework done, you too Lila. I love you.” Both kids called out responses, Lila even made a kissy face at the camera before they wandered off into the apartment.

Steve and Barnes were coming up the stairs into the tiny two-bedroom hovel the fugitives were camped out in, so Clint carefully shut the door to the room he had to himself. It wouldn’t keep the super soldiers from unintentionally eavesdropping, but they would do their best to tune him out.

Laura looked beautiful. It took his breath away, and Clint had to concentrate on exhaling carefully to keep himself under control. He had never been away so long before, and while he still thought he had made the right call to back up Steve, it took everything he had not to give in to the longing for his wife. Her hair was down. He liked it best that way, even if she complained that the baby tended to pull on it. The sun was steaming though the windows in New York, and it picked out all the little shades of blonde and gold and burnished copper. She was paler now, the Tower didn’t offer as much opportunity for time in the sun as the farm had, but she had lost all of the baby weight. Not that Clint minded when Laura was a little softer, but in the two weeks since his last call it was clear she had been keeping up with her workout routine. She liked how her ass looked in a smaller size of jeans. Clint liked that she could run holding a toddler and a shotgun if necessary.

“I have already talked to Tony about the repulsor. It was definitely not _cool_ and Coop is not allowed to use unauthorized components for projects from now on.”

“I miss you.” Privately, Clint didn’t think the burn had looked that bad, and Coop was far more excited in science than he had ever been before – which had to be a good thing. But Laura was the primary parent whenever he was in the field, so her word was law. And he really didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Not when he could spend his time admiring Laura instead.

She let out a shaky sigh. “I miss you too. I know you and Nat don’t have a new safe house ready yet, but,” she smiled, and it was watery. Laura was a strong woman, it was part of why he had fallen in love with her, but that only made her tears more crushing. “Any chance for a conjugal visit?”

“Oh god,” he laughed. “I wish, but I think that’s only for federal prisoners. Not fugitives.” He found himself actually thinking about the logistics of it – which was foolish and too risky. But he _missed_ his _wife_. She was shifting on the couch, her left hand coming up to graze against the side of her neck. He loved that spot on her neck. She loved that he loved that spot. Clint groaned under his breath.

“How is Nat?” Laura, thankfully, was sympathetic to his predicament. While she could spend the night alone in her bed, thinking of Clint, he was stuck with paper thin walls and three other men who had gone longer than him without company.

“You’d know better than me,” he smiled again. “I only saw her for a couple of hours over tacos before she took off with Wanda. I think she spends more time at the Tower than hanging out with us.”

“Well, we have better laundry service.” Laura laughed. Clint watched the column of her throat move. “And her godchildren. I think Nathaniel is going to speak Russian before English. I’ll be glad when she’s back. It wouldn’t be so awful if Ms. Potts were living here, but without her or Nat to keep him in line, Tony is driving everyone up the wall. Even Colonel Rhodes stopped in to have dinner with us the other night, avoiding our favorite billionaire.”

“Still trying to interfere with your experiments?”

“I shipped out new treatments for contaminated soil samples last week – of course, the soil in Bangui wouldn’t be contaminated if the UN Committee had just approved the request for Avengers assistance, but-” Laura stopped herself, and Clint nodded. They both tried not to talk about the Accords. It wasn’t something either of them could change; they could only make the best of things and hope that the people with more power figured out it had been a mistake. With an effort to change the topic, Laura rolled her eyes. “And what does he know about drought-resistant soybeans, I ask you? Nothing. He’s an engineer for crying out loud!” They both laughed, and Laura continued, “But Sweetie, honestly, do you have any ideas for how I can get SI headquarters relocated back to New York? I think he really...he needs her here.”

“That’s more Nat’s wheelhouse than mine, I’m afraid. But try not to be too hard on him. That’s how Tony makes friends.”

"By buying unnecessarily expensive, unasked for gifts and insulting people?”

“Yeah, pretty much. He doesn’t have the emotional maturity you are used to in a man.”

“Do you mean that of a five-year old, or were you talking about Coop?” Her grin was infectious.

“Ha-ha, very funny, Laura.”

“I know. I’m thinking of leaving agronomy to really give my stand-up career the attention it deserves. How are things there, really?” Her voice remained light, but he could see the worry in her eyes. “Is Barnes doing okay? Steve? Did Sam managed to get a hold of his mom for her birthday?”

“Sam’s good. His mom demanded to talk to each of us – made us promise to look out for him. He was so embarrassed – it was great. Barnes is...” Clint was extremely aware that the man in question could hear him, even over the music someone had turned on in the kitchen. “He’s doing a hell of a lot better than I would be.” Clint had to swallow, and he watched Laura do the same. _There, but for the grace_...he thought. “And Steve,” he laughed. He had almost forgotten the best gossip. Laura would love it. “Steve tried to pick up a girl – at the scene of a fire. Oh, god, Laur, you should have seen it. I mean, I was just listening, but it had to have been amazingly awful. She flirted, actually flirted, and he-” Clint laughed again, “Nat said she was pretty, too. You’ll have to have her tell you about it – I won’t do the story justice. I would pay good money to get them together. The entertainment value alone would be more than worth the property damage they could probably cause together.”

Clint and Natasha had already figured out who she was. Nat knew her first name, description, and the telling information of a license plate to one of Tony’s cars. Clint remembered her file from Thor’s landing and the security updates SHIELD had prepared on each of the Avengers. Between the two of them, they had Darcy Lewis’s occupation, parents’ names, favorite food, and current home address within an hour. They had agreed not to tell Steve yet – Nat had promised Clint the wait would be worth it. And if Clint had learned anything since he had married the smartest woman he had ever met and saved the world’s deadliest, it was to trust their sense of timing. And pretty much everything else about them.

He spent another twenty minutes with Laura. He even caught a little bit of time with his youngest child after Nathaniel woke up from his nap and before she had to take him to daycare and get back to work. He was getting so big. He was walking already and had a third tooth working its way out. When the call disconnected, Clint was left feeling both immeasurably better, and inexplicably worse. It was always like that. He loved to see them, but seeing them made it that much harder to be away.

When he reopened the bedroom door it was to the smell of _carne asada_ and a stack of corn tortillas that Steve and Barnes were quickly demolishing.

“Better get out here, man, before they lick the plates clean,” Sam advised.

Steve smiled and swallowed politely before speaking. “I hope you gave Laura our best.”

Barnes wasn’t willing to let that misdirection go, “She got any sisters? I think Stevie could use the help.”

Things devolved from there into name-calling, good natured insults, and delicious lunch. It wasn’t ideal, but if Clint couldn’t be home, it was a pretty decent substitute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am working on more Darcy/Steve scenes and the requested Maria & Tony, but I've had a slight accident that has seriously compromised my wpm rate. Stage Left was already finished when I broke my hand so you're getting that first until I can eke out the next installment of the world's most fervently, awkwardly hot romance. I hope it keeps your interest while I search and peck through Tony's mental overload. Thank you, as always for reading and for you wonderful comments! They make writing as a newly minted southpaw a little less frustrating. 
> 
> P.S. Despite my best efforts, I have been able to HTML my way into posting a cast picture in the notes section. Eh, guess it wasn't really that necessary, right?


	3. Trying to Get Away

**October 17, 2016**

 

Pepper was intimately familiar with the effort required to arrange someone’s life. She had managed Tony’s – as much as anyone could manage Tony – for ten years, so when she asked her personal assistant to make certain that she was notified when Darcy was going to be released from the hospital, she was aware of the hoops that would have to be jumped through to get around HIPPA, police investigators, and Darcy herself. When she arrived at Darcy’s hospital room just as the nurse was going through her release instructions, Pepper made a mental note to make certain to include a personal message with the Christmas bonus that year.

“Ms. Lewis, do you understand these instructions?”

“Yeah, like a steel trap,” she tapped her temple with her good hand and smiled as sweetly as Pepper had ever seen. It was so obviously fake the CEO nearly laughed. “No water on the stitches, no dirt on the stitches, and no heavy lifting. Now can you please, please get me something to wear that doesn’t expose my ass?”

“I believe that would be my cue,” Pepper stepped into the room and gestured to the small rolling suitcase Happy had insisted on carrying for her.

“You brought my stuff? Pepper you are a lifesaver!”

“I did have your things laundered, since it seemed you didn’t have anything else clean.”

“You think of everything.” Darcy gestured with her thumb and spoke in a loud whisper to the nurse. “This is why she gets the corner office.” The nurse only held out another form for signature before leaving the room. Happy murmured his well wishes and stepped out as well, promising to have the car brought around for them. Pepper shut the door and busied herself with the release papers to give Darcy privacy to change.

“Are you certain you are feeling well enough to leave?” Pepper would have preferred if Darcy agreed to stay with her in Malibu for the rest of the week. She still looked pale, and tired, and she would have to return in ten days to have the stitches removed anyhow. Pepper mentally steered away from the reminder that Darcy had been shot. Shot. And hadn’t even noticed until the paramedics had drawn her attention to it.

“It was just a graze. Well, that and a mild concussion. Like, less than ten stitches, all together. I don’t think they would have even kept me this long if I hadn’t reacted so badly to the antibiotics.”

“Yes, well, I took the liberty of ordering you a bracelet for that. It’s in the outside pocket of your suitcase. And a new phone, too. Although, I should warn you there are several messages from your father on there. He seems extremely concerned. Did you let him know everything was fine?”

Darcy huffed. “I didn’t tell him jack – I’m not crazy. That man would have flown out here on a red-eye and demanded to see the incident reports. So much better if I wait until I am stuck at the airport and can have a good excuse to cut the call off. I love my dad, but he will go completely bonkers over this.” Pepper heard her typing on the new phone. “I mean look at this, six messages because I missed our weekly call. Good gravy.”

Pepper wisely stayed out of that family squabble. “There were some components that Jane ordered, ready to be shipped to her. I didn’t figure you would want to fly commercial, so I ordered one of the smaller planes to drop you and the equipment off. It will be ready to leave whenever you are.”

“Little help here?”

Pepper turned around to find Darcy half into a well-worn t-shirt. She carefully rendered assistance, trying not to bump the stitches on the younger woman’s arm. Seeing the neat black thread made her stomach queasy. It was difficult to make friends in her position. Right out of college she had begun working for SI, and then was promoted to Tony’s PA within a few years. That job became her life – following him around the globe and ensuring his professional and personal matters were taken care of. And then there was Afghanistan, and Stane, and Tony’s ongoing health issues. Taking over as CEO had been a refreshing challenge, and infinitely more time-consuming than she could have imagined. It left little time to meet people that did not work for either her or one of SI’s competitors. Or worse, the government. And then Darcy had practically fallen into her lap. Pepper had wanted to pass along her personal welcome to Dr. Foster upon joining the SI research division, and meeting Darcy on her first visit to the LA facility had been like being smacked in the face with charm. She was down to earth, intelligent, loyal, and already had knowledge of classified events. Despite the age gap, Pepper had been taken with Darcy, and the feeling seemed mutual.

The call from Jane, nearly hyperventilating with worry, that Darcy had been admitted to the hospital had come on the heels of Friday’s announcement that the Ghia was no longer transmitting GPS data. Pepper hadn’t felt so out of control since the day Rhodey had called to tell her Tony was missing. Within the hour, Darcy had a private room and Pepper had her prognosis directly from the doctor on call in the ER. Pepper didn’t have many friends, but the ones she did have she looked after fiercely.

“Thanks for the offer of the plane, Pepper. Really, that is way, way too much. I love it. But I have a few errands I need to run before I can head back. And I should probably call Jane before she freaks out and sends Thor to pick me up.” Darcy sat down to slip on her boots, and without asking Pepper helped her with the zippers.

“The plane will wait as long as you need, Darcy. Please,” she forestalled the rejection that Darcy was certainly preparing to give. “Let me do this for you. I feel just awful that this happened while you were visiting me.”

“Technically,” Darcy grinned, “it happened while I was visiting Maria. So I think she’s the one who owes me. I’m thinking at least a B in Language Arts and no cursing for a week.”

“Sounds perfectly reasonable.”

“I need to check in on her before I leave town. After what happened to Mrs. Soto...” Darcy trailed off, and Pepper leaned in for a hug. She knew better than most people what Darcy would be going through. Anyhow,” Darcy continued with a watery laugh as she pulled away, “I may need to throw your name around again, just to make certain her next family is decent. I hope you don’t mind.”

Pepper frowned. “The granddaughter isn’t going to keep her?”

“No, not that I can blame her. Her only family is dead, her apartment is unlivable, and she doesn’t have a steady job. I wish I could take her, at least until they find something permanent, but I have to get back to Jane and Family Services won’t let her leave the state. Hopefully, I can convince the granddaughter to stay with Maria in a motel for a few days. At least she wouldn’t have to go to a group home then.”

“I’ll take her.” The words were out of Pepper’s mouth before she had even thought about them. Speaking without thinking was more Tony’s thing than hers, and he did enough of it for both of them and then some. But once the offer was made, Pepper grew determined. She had met the girl several times through Darcy, at lunches and once at a movie theater. Maria had been blunt, wildly intelligent, and used an impressive vocabulary and grasp of sarcasm to hide some deep emotional hurts. Pepper was self-aware enough to realize the similarities with Tony had drawn her interest in the child. But she also genuinely liked her, and knew this was something she could do to directly effect a person’s life for the better.

“Pepper, that – that would be awesome. But...” Darcy hesitated and for a moment the veneer of carefree college student fell away and the serious, protective creature that Darcy was underneath emerged. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to you, but you do understand how much responsibility this would be? Maria needs attention, and positive reinforcement. She can’t be left to her own devices – especially after this. She’ll be acting out, and she can be pretty cutting and reckless when she feels out of control.”

“Luckily,” Pepper said softly, and with just as much steel under her voice, “I have some experience with that.

“Right, okay.” With a blink Darcy was back to her usual irreverent self. “If Maria is cool with it, that could be a great solution. Thanks Pepper. Although,” she paused as she reached for the door, “it can take weeks – sometimes months – to get approved for foster care.”

“I doubt that will be a problem.” Pepper pulled out her phone, channeling Tony and giving a cool smile and challenging glare to the nurses and the signs declaring cell phones to be banned in the hallways. It took only a few minutes to explain to her PA what she needed, and by then Happy was closing the door of the town car behind them and Darcy was staring wide-eyed with a smile.

“Can I be you when I grow up?”

Pepper laughed. That was why she enjoyed Darcy so much. Even after a week that had begun with a search for a reproductive specialist, taken a turn for the worst with another emergency board meeting, and been highlighted with not one, not two, but three lab incidents requiring containment, Darcy could still make her laugh. Even Tony’s incessant messages about suitable doctors, remodeling plans, color schemes for the Rescue suit, purchase of an island in the Arctic ocean, _why could we possibly need that?_ , complaints about Mrs. Barton, and requests to find out how Vision could get a degree in architecture could not stand in the way of Darcy’s infectious good humor. She was the best friend an overworked, genetically altered CEO could ask for.

For a moment, Pepper debated giving Darcy a head’s up about Tony’s plans for her thesis. Darcy, anyone really, deserved to at least try to prepare for the whirlwind that was Tony Stark. Darcy’s rambling sidetracked her thoughts.

“-would have had a witty reply, I’m sure. Not to mention, you can probably pull off smoke-stained and slightly shot better than I can. And it was the Black Widow, Pepper! Natasha freaking Romanoff! Who can stand in front of that and not babble like a fan girl?”

“Natalia was there?” _Interesting, that wasn’t in the police report._

“Yeah, with the Captain. I couldn’t quite tell if I was hot for him, or if it was just the building being on fire.”

“Him,” Pepper replied with a smile. “I’m not so into clean-cut, myself, but even I know it was him.”

“Yeah,” Darcy sighed and leaned back against the leather with her eyes closed. “It was totally him. Or maybe the Widow. I can’t think straight with that much pretty around.”

Pepper laughed, and she kept laughing, all the way to get Darcy’s pain pills, check on Maria, and drop Darcy at the airport. It wasn’t until much later, when she had finished going over the details with her lawyers for Maria’s stay at the Malibu house that she remembered she hadn’t warned Darcy about Tony. Or Tony about Steve. Or Nat about Darcy. Or Tony about Maria.

_Some things are better as a surprise_ , she tried to convince herself. _Like an engagement ring. Or an undiscovered Pollock. Or a pit of snakes._ Pepper reached for her phone. _Maybe just a quick text._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Pepper would be the coolest friend ever. She clearly doesn't have a lot of free time between Tony and SI, but surely hanging out only with her boyfriend and people she employs must get old. And she must know the best takeout in every city.


	4. Golly What A Day

_**October 18, 2016** _

“Boss, you have a text message from Ms. Potts.”

Tony hummed noncommittally, but Vision looked up from the holographic projection of lower Manhattan and Brooklyn to frown. “It is after eleven p.m. in Los Angles. Friday, would you please remind Ms. Potts of any early morning appointments she may have, as well as the importance of adequate REM sleep?”

“Of course, Vision.”

“You are such a mother hen. Were you always like this? I don’t think Jarvis was like this.” Tony zoomed in on two blocks of riverside property he had purchased in Brooklyn. It had been completely razed in the invasion, and to make amends and give good PR, Tony had paid pre-Chitauri prices. Only moderate cleanup efforts had been made in Brooklyn so far, with the majority of construction efforts centering in Manhattan proper. And Brooklyn was easy to ignore. And preferable. Brooklyn made Tony think of greasy pizza his cardiologist didn't want him to eat and interpersonal relationships that even his therapist hadn’t pushed him to discuss. Vision was the one urging him to take notice. Vision with his surprising interest in architecture that had already been indulged at the upstate facility and was growing daily. If Tony hadn’t been so fascinated with the personality development of an artificial organic life form, he would have been happy to continuing ignoring the existence of Brooklyn until global warming made the conversation moot.

“Jarvis was considerably more invested in your well-being. I believe I once monitored you breathing for eighteen hours because you refused medical assistance but were in extreme danger of succumbing to alcohol poisoning.”

_Those were the days. Pre-Pepper days._ “That was one time, one – okay like three times max. Where’s the bike path? Didn’t you say there would be a bike path?” Vision highlighted the requested recreational facilities in green. “What’s that? A jungle gym? That’s too far from the new housing. Parents don’t like their kids to walk that far.” After the words were out of his mouth, Tony regretted them. He had been doing some reading since he and Pepper had made a decision. Fertility specialists, genetic inheiritability, trust funds, early childhood education, and statistical threats. None of the lists included arch-nemeses or alien vendettas, but they did rank car accidents and abductions. It was all weighing heavily on his mind. So heavily that re-reading Lewis’ paper was a relief until that began to give him chest palpations and he had to focus on something else before he had a panic attack. Another one. Hence the three different designs for Pepper’s Rescue suit, and rough schematics for an Arctic backup base of operations. And the economically diversified and ecologically friendly plans for Brooklyn.

Vision paused, staring at Tony thoughtfully. Tony watched through his peripheral sight and pretended not to care that he didn’t know what Vision was thinking. His expressions were often hard to read. _Next time Cho creates a petri dish body, she should include eyebrows. Definitely needs eyebrows_. “And more middle-income housing,” Tony said out loud. He stabbed into several modern brownstones planned to replace buildings destroyed by aliens. Each floor had been made into a single apartment. “These are ridiculously small.”

“Those are middle-income, Mr. Stark,” Vision answered smoothly. “I did extensive research on current property values, as well as pre-2014 market rates. Given simple finishes, these units are accessible to the median household income for the census tract.”

“Really?” Tony considered it for a moment. “Friday, what’s SI’s median income? Could my employees afford this?”

Friday and Vision had a brief conference before the AI announced, “Yes, Boss, although I would point out that, since Ms Potts took over, Stark Industries pays more than the area unions or any competitor, for every job classification. Also, you now have two messages waiting your attention from Ms. Potts.”

“Uh-huh. But could a- a- a police officer or, someone boringly normal – a kindergarten teacher, afford this?”

“Not on that salary alone, Mr. Stark.” Vision continued delicately, “I believe your personal finances may be influencing your perception of necessities.”

_Fuck all._ And now he was thinking about Lewis and her paper again. She had, among other less flattering things, called his skyscraper an ‘Ivory Tower’. Which was both interesting an insulting. On the one hand, it indicated that Lewis felt he was powerful and noble in an idealistic Camelot sort of way. On the other hand, it implied he was out of touch. _Not that I want to be in touch with anyone but Pepper. Frequently. Maybe someplace tropical – or snowing, with a fire and a thick rug and naked_ – Tony refocused. Lewis had flat out stated a need for a serious PR response if the Avengers were going to be able to break the Accords. That included swaying the general public. Tony wasn’t going to do that. He wouldn’t accept a cup of coffee from Pepper’s Personal Assistant. He sure as hell wasn’t going to shake the hands of unwashed masses in Central Park. He had no desire to drink cheap beer at a local dive bar. He certainly would never chat with his neighbors while getting the mail. He didn’t get his own mail. Tony wasn’t sure if he actually received non-fan-based mail. Did he even have a mailbox? A physical receptacle for coupons, flyers, and solicitations from the AARP? Certainly not. He wasn’t old enough for the AARP anyhow – no matter what rumors Rhodey was trying to spread.

Vision was asking Friday about teaching qualifications and base pay, but Tony only listened with half an ear as he twisted and turned the hologram, examining partially-finished designs and schematics for buildings that were still condemned or waiting for foreclosure auction. Sam Wilson – the nosey-noserton – would chat with his neighbors. Natasha might too – if only so that she could know every detail about their lives, potential security risks, and utility. Clint would drink at a dive bar. He’d love an occasional game of darts after he had imbibed enough to make things sporting. And his kids...well, Tony wasn’t completely certain – and he would never, ever suggest so to Mrs. B, _hell of an arm on that woman_ , but the little hawks would probably do well in a regular school. They seemed to like people, and most children wanted friends, right? Tony even vaguely recalled a time when he had wished for a companion under the age of forty and not hired to be with him. If an apartment – or better, a house – was designed right...with a good neighborhood mix and a decent school that would submit to security scrutiny…

As for shaking hands, he also knew someone who loved little kids holding out sharpies and veterans sharing stories. Captain Virtue, for all his complaining about the USO tour and TV interviews, liked people. _He_ actually wanted to be a normal guy who jogged in the park and grilled or picnicked or whatever. _Potlucks_ , Tony reminded himself, _I’m sure that’s a thing._

He wandered away from the table and began absentmindedly drawing a new schematic. He’d been thinking about improving StarkWear for a while. The glasses worked well for him -more of a style choice than because he needed reading glasses – because he didn’t _Rhodey_ – but a compressed version could have other applications. _Too expensive for open market and the fit w_ _ill_ _need to be…_

Tony began a materials list with one hand while he flipped through Pepper’s messages with the other.

_**12 min ago.** DL had a run-in with LAFD. SI picked up tab. Released from hospital, but try to be patient._

Tony’s pulse kicked up a few notches into painful territory. He hadn’t considered that Lewis might be hurt. The Antique Hero had rescued her – she had looked fine on the videos Friday had found. If anything happened to her – Tony’s breath sped up and he had to work to keep it deep enough to prevent hyperventilation. He needed her alive and mobile and thinking politically and preferably not horrifically scarred, _I have to look at her after all_ , at least until after the Accords were fixed. Fixed as in lit on fire, ash ground into dust, and dumped into the harbor, fixed.

_**8 min ago.** _ _DL charm lost on S._

If Lewis had any sort of game she probably had Captain Pantyhose eating out of her hand. Or running to a monastery. The man had literal blue balls for seven decades and the best he had done with looks, muscles, and hero worship from every woman in America was collect a staggering amount of fan mail. It was still coming in at the tower. The Golden Boy got more perfumed letters and panty-stuffed envelopes than Tony. Or so the mail room gossip went. It wasn’t like Tony cared. At all. He had Pepper. And _He_ couldn’t do anything about it anyhow. _He_ was a fugitive, and while the ladies might be ready and willing, the Man from Brooklyn was too uptight to leave a woman hanging. If _H_ _e_ had a girlfriend, _H_ _e’d_ be so damn faithful the adoring letters and ‘I heart Cap’ signs taped to bridges wouldn’t even hit his radar. _He’d_ probably stop jumping out of planes without parachutes at the first sign of commitment. And if she went to third base with him, Tony sniggered to himself, _after the_ _thirty-third date_ , Mr. Responsibility would probably buy her a house.

_**2** **min ago.** Hosting DL’s sister until housing arrangements made. Trial run for 3.0._

_Fuck all._ Tony broke out in a cold sweat. Sure, he had agreed on their joint project. Theoretically, it was sound. Eighty-five percent sound. But he had also anticipated months, maybe a year of tests and exams and practice. He had really been looking forward to the practice. He didn’t think practice should involve an actual kid, just the process for making one. It was easier, and better for his blood pressure, to ignore that and focus on something else. He typed quickly.

_Faux-scientist is charming? No surprise S didn’t catch on._

The response was immediate.

_Very charming. Sure you’ve already seen photos too._

_Too bad. DL gets the position._

Tony hadn’t gotten past the first letter in his response when her next message came in.

_Get your mind out of the gutter._

_DL uniquely qualified to deal with classified._

Tony had to admit that was true. There were plenty of women who would jump – buck naked – into dating a superhero. Even an outlawed one. Not so many were also prepared to deal with life- or world-threatening crises. Lewis’ history showed she could handle herself even if a dinner date turned into a terrorist attack – domestic ,foreign, or extra-terrestrial. He pulled up the file Friday had created on her, including some photos from social media sites. She also had more than a handful of charm. More than two handfuls.

_You want him to catch on?_

He waited impatiently for Pepper’s response. Tony needed Lewis in New York to fix things. If things were fixed, Captain Oblivious would also end up in New York – Brooklyn, probably.

_DL is my friend. I want her to have what she wants._

So Lewis was interested. Enough to share that information with Pepper. Tony leaned back against a workbench and watched Vision adding data to his holographic map. Tony had fucked up with the Avengers. He needed _Him_ to come back. To stay. To make certain _He_ stayed even if Tony fucked up again. What Tony needed was to make New York more enticing. And for Captain Perfect Union and the One-Armed Man Brigade not to be arrested when they returned. Obviously. Tony smoothed his beard and nodded to himself. Getting former Avengers off the most wanted list and back on the active roster was going to be Lewis’ job. Tony just needed a plan to keep things that way. Good thing he was a genius. He thought so far ahead, sometimes he even amazed himself.

_S?_

Tony pulled up the footage from the fire and gang shootout again. The Captain had handed Darcy over to a civilian and then – _H_ _e_ leaned in and brushed back her hair. If he had been a lessor man, Tony would have fallen over. The move was so smooth it was damn near silk. The Murder Marionette must have been teaching his old pal some skills.

_Don’t Tony._

Tony ignored that comment. He was sure that once Pepper could see the full beauty of his plan she would agree. Until then – plausible deniability.

_V says you need more sleep. Sweet dreams Pep._ The smile on his face felt uncomfortably genuine.

_Stop. Tony. STAY OUT OF IT._

_Love you._ He closed the message program and turned back to his notes on optical displays, mind buzzing.

“Before you head back upstate, draft a message to legal. Everything for sale between what we own on the river all the way to Park Slope. I want to buy it. And see if there is anything in Queens that catches your eye. Maybe three or four square blocks. You decide, Vision. Oh, and that hotel that is still rebuilding on Central Park West.”

“May I inquire,” Vision paused, and Tony looked up for a moment. He couldn’t tell if the guy was concerned or confused. _Definitely needs eyebrows._ “Mr. Stark, why the additional properties?”

“Never liked Trump,” Tony answered, his smile still in place and feeling distinctly, weirdly good. “Can’t pass up an opportunity to stick a fork in his eye. Or my hand in his wallet, in this case.” He wandered back over to Vision’s side. “These two,” he said pointing at a couple of pre-war Brownstones that were structurally undamaged. “Friday, I’d like to approve the plans personally. And make the rehab a priority.”

“Yes, Boss. And Secretary Ross is still on hold for you.”

“He hasn’t hung up yet?” Tony blinked and glanced at his watch. “He called an hour ago.”

“Two, Mr. Stark,” Friday politely corrected him.

Vision sounded far more disapproving, “You’ve kept the Secretary of Defense waiting for two hours?”

“He’ll call back.” Tony huffed in irritation. “Unfortunately.”

“Friday?” Vision finally turned to the AI for more information when Tony refused to expound.

“Secretary Ross has requested assistance from the Avengers regarding an incursion at a joint military facility in the South Pacific. The exact location has not been disclosed by the Secretary, as the Boss puts him on hold before he can bring up details.”

"Clearly, my opinion of his piss poor ability to defend his own property will fall on deaf ears, so why should I listen to him? The last three operation requests we sent him were ignored, and I doubt he even reads the humanitarian requests.”

“SI has provided much needed assistance when we have been unable to step in. Mrs. Barton’s work in pH treatment for iron chlorosis is already showing promise in Bangui.” Vision’s attempt to soothe Tony did not work.

“And it wouldn’t have been necessary if the Council had approved us to act! We’re sitting on our hands here, but I at least won’t let Ross dictate when we leave home – it sure as hell won’t be to rescue some pork-barrel installation in an international gray area. Asshole can take care of his own stupid shit.” Tony could hear Natasha’s voice in his head, _maturity like that will obviously provide results._ Tony told mental Natasha to fuck off.

“It is unfortunate that so many opportunities to prevent suffering are ignored. So much research and reconnaissance goes to waste.”

“Waste?” Tony smirked. “You know SI’s position on waste. I’m all about the three R’s.”

“Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle?” Vision sounded skeptical. Rightfully so, so Tony didn’t let it bother him.

“Reveal, Rebel, and Revenge. Friday? Go ahead and File 13 everything we have on Ross’s latest fuckup. And my request to act on that Malaysia issue.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

“Is that not a euphemism for trash?”

“Vision, Vision, my dear boy,” Tony tucked his hands in his pockets and grinned over the glowing blue map of Brooklyn. “That would be wasteful, don’t you think?”

Eight thousand miles away, Natasha’s phone began to vibrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I can't stop writing from Tony's point of view. This was supposed to be Darcy/Steve-centric! I think it's the word-vomit. I love a good word-vomit.


End file.
